


Free Fall

by Amlika



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amlika/pseuds/Amlika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People say the few seconds before you die seem to stretch into infinity, with all the most precious moments of your life flashing before your eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Fall

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: depiction of an abusive relationship...
> 
> Will update sporadically.

People say the few seconds before you die seem to stretch into infinity, with all the most precious moments of your life flashing before your eyes.

Harley doesn't care, her death is the most precious moment of her life. As her body slams onto the surface of the vat of chemial, all the noises in life fizzle away, leaving a static void in her mind, clear and eerily silent as she's never experienced before in life. She can feel her body sinking slowly into the murky liquid. Her vision blurs and skin stings. Then comes the suffocation, overwhelming and blinding and making every cell of her body scream for survival.

But Harley closes her eyes and forces herself to surrender, welcoming the pain and fear coursing through her body instead. The toxic chemical seeps through her pores, decimating every synapse and nerve on its wake, wiping her clean inside out. She never thought death would make her feel so... exhilaratingly alive.

His voice, low and hissing, resonates on her mind - _would you die for me, pretty? No, that's too easy. Would you - would you live for me? Hmm?_

When was her fate sealed? Was it the loveless childhood and the abusive father that started it all? How embarrassingly cliche. Her whole life has been a dull blur, an aimless search in the dark for something to jolt her wide awake, and make life worth living for. Until that one day, in the dim little therapy room at the Arkham asylum, when he inched towards her and whispered.

_Look at yourself, doc. Pathetic. Tsk tsk. Hiding behind that facade, tricking the whole damn world._

He tilts his head to the side, a wide smile twitching on his pale face, and preying eyes that make her feel both humiliated and strangely enthralled.

_Love the pain, cupcake. One day, I'll hurt you really really bad._

It's as if colors started to creep slowly into her black and white life, Harley felt herself becoming more addicted to him with every therapy session. It's not love, what she feels for him. Gosh, even as her mind starts to slip away and her body sinks deeper into oblivion, she wants to laugh at the absurdity of that. Oh no, people as broken as the two of them don't love. They are drawn to each other, fighting and hurting and ripping each other apart, but becoming more entangled, more obsessively dependent with each bloody wound they inflict. Harley doesn't know when it all happened, but by the time she looked back, there was nothing left to go back to. She belongs to him now, like a broken toy carried everywhere by the owner, worn out and branded with each use.

She had a feeling tonight was the end, as he brought her to the edge of the high platform, on top of the vats of fuming chemicals mixed exclusively just for her. His crooked smile was poisonously sweet, and that face, all pale white and vivid red, every little detail forever etched in her memory with each personally delivered electroshock session.

 _I’m all yours now, nothing left to hide_ , Harley thought as she free fell off the platform, like a bird clipped of her wings. She didn't expect anything. A toy is just a toy, even if it's a favorite. Darkness engulfs her, as the last thread of consciousness starts to drift away.

But suddenly, violently, she's being dragged up, up through the murky liquid. Before she could respond, they break through the surface, splattering and struggling. He steadies her body with one hand, and grabs onto her long wavy hair with the other, giving it a good hard tug. The kiss comes suffocatingly hard, nearly snuffing out all the life left within her, making her simultaneously hurting and wanting more. When he's finally satisfied and lifts his head back up, she hears the familiar cackling.

_I'm not done with you yet. Live for me, pretty._

His eyes gleam with excitement, as he grips onto her tightly, fingers digging into her arms. All around them the colors of their cloth melt into the acidic liquid, creating swirls of blue and red that leave vibrant imprints all over her blonde hair.

People say the few seconds before you die seem to stretch into infinity, with all the most precious moments of your life flashing before your eyes. Harley wouldn't know. Her new life is just starting now, and she's so very ready for it.

 

*******

 

That useless little cunt.

Chaos reigns all around him - prison inmates punching guards into the ground, people stepping over each other to get out alive, flames dancing along the prison walls, engulfing all the sinners and enforcers alike along its path of destruction.

He moves swiftly in front of his SWAT team, firing his trusty Glock 17 rapidly at the occasional inmates that get in the way. The push of the recoil, the smell of gunpowder and blood, the screams of the wounded and dying, it’s undeniably all quite enjoyable. Being in the presence of death always guarantees a heart pounding adrenaline rush, nobody is immune to it, not even an unhinged lunatic like him.

But amidst it all, there's only one thought on his mind - that worthless little whore, so much fucking trouble as always.

The Joker scowls, firing at the next inmate a little too long with raging anger.

The fire in his loins, the itch in his crotch, the one and only.

He remembers her as Dr. Qunizel, looking all prim and proper in that dim little therapy room at the Arkham Asylum. _Why do you kill people?_ She would ask hesitantly, pushing up the black rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

_Oh doc, stop pretending. Why do you keep coming back to me? You know, don't you? That you and I, we are really the same. Let me show you, pretty. Let me show you how to finally be free._

She would smile in that shy but alluring way, fingers fidgeting with her neat little pony-tail, eyes beaming with curiosity and adoration. The gap of her thickly starched shirt reveals just enough cleavage to make him want to do wild things to her.

Oh the things he wants to do to her. First it was the electroshock and torture sessions. Watching her slowly losing her mind and becoming just like him always gave him such a hard on, that he had to relieve himself all over her bruised and loopy face right afterwards.

Then came the chemical vat, filled with a solution he blended exclusively for her. Life would've been much easier if he had just left her there after she dived off the platform, alone and deep within the murky abyss, unable to swim and willing to die for him. But instead, as the clock ticked and her life fades away, he had this strange sensation, an irritating tug at his heart that made it impossible to walk away. So like a fucking idiot, he followed her off the platform, pulled her out of the liquid, and kissed her among the endless ripples of blue and red.

The memory of that chemical matrimony always tickles at his heart, triggering an emotion remotely resembling happiness, or some long forgotten tenderness buried deep in his past. Too deep. Fuck, maybe she wasn't the only one that got messed up by the chemicals that night, Joker cusses inwardly as the black SWAT team cuts through the crowd and rushes towards the heart of the prison.

Somedays he hates her vehemently, for intruding into his life all tempting and eager to please, and distracting him from the sole purpose of his existence. Those damn beautiful eyes, filled with adoration, always teasing him, tempting him to destroy her and then build her back up again, making her his and his only. She's just an experiment, a worthless toy, he would tell her out loud just to remind himself, while kicking the shit out of her or strapping her up in the electroshock chair for a quick refresher. But when she's gone, lying on the empty floor filled with guns, knives, and a thousand other things they shared, his body betrays him and longs for her delicious curves and soft hands that make him see stars.

Who knew, that even the fucking clown prince of Gotham could still feel something. No matter, soon he will end this once and for all, snuff the life out of her with his own hands, and watch as color drains away from that fucking sexy face of hers. With every door they kick down, and every bar they flame torch through, he becomes more and more enraged, the smile on his pale face twitching and distorting. He could feel her presence getting closer, and his blood boils with anticipation. She's gonna pay for all this, for making him orchestrate a frigging prison riot and chase her down like a pathetic fool, over and over and over.

Then, right in the middle of the prison, behind thick concrete walls and endless gates and bars, they find it, the vast empty room with nothing but a cage in the middle.

And there she is, with curlers in her soft blonde hair, and an espresso cup and a pile of harlequin romance books on the floor, his queen, his beautiful Harl, like a deranged little nightingale patiently waiting for her owner. Suddenly everything fades away, the chaos, the anger, the irritating longing that claws at his heart, it's all gone. The glowing flame torch melts through the cage gate like a knife through butter, and he saunters in, ripping off the disguise SWAT helmet and throwing it to the floor. She gives a delighted squeal in her familiar high pitched voice, and jumps into his open embrace. And just like that, he’s strangely at peace again.

Like a little boy clutching his favourite toy, he grips onto her possessively and breathes a satisfying sigh at the smell of her. His voice by her ear is low and resolute.

_Let’s go home._

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
